Hey guys! Its been so much fun writing this chapter, its out a little later than expected because...well i got caught up in Arkham Knight XD (its amazing) As always sorry for any grammatical errors, i really do try and get them all i promise. Thanks so much for sticking this my story, now the Joker is out free things can start to get reaaalllyy interesting so expect some fun things to come! Please feel free to leave me any reviews, i love hearing from you guys!
"Miss Quinzel, surely you can understand why we need to be ahh thorough in light of last night's events." The detective said sarcastically, responding to my clear exasperation at being asked the same questions for the last hour.
"Look, I've told you everything I can remember Detective Bullock. How many more times do we have to go through the fact I nearly fucking died last night." I replied coldly, my hands instinctively going to the freshly bandage cut on my arm. It was strange to be sat in an interrogation room on the other side of the table. Oddly nostalgic. I could just see myself treating Bullock as well; it was easy to forget I was the one being questioned here.
"Listen I'm gonna be frank with you here lady, your boss man…that errr, what's his name?"
"Kingston?" I cut in icily, already knowing where this conversation was going. I could already feel the usual anger that rose whenever his name was mentioned. I had to try my hardest not to give off a murderous vibe, especially considering the circumstance.
"Yeah him. Well he told us about some personal attachment issues you've had with the Joker and well…." He trailed off suggestively arching one eyebrow as he looked me up and down. I could already see what he was thinking, how could such a young, normal looking girl get involved with someone like the Joker? The judgement was written all over his voice, case shut and closed.
"Anyone who's met Kingston knows he's an arse. He's had it out for me ever since I was forced to take the Joker case, purely because he couldn't have everything under his constant control" It was pointless to defend myself, but that didn't stop my trying.
"Yeah, he wasn't exactly the nicest person I ever met. Doesn't change the fact he's your boss. It also doesn't change the fact you let a maniac loose onto the streets of Gotham."
"Not willingly!" I protested. "I doubt you'd be able to do anything if that maniac had a knife to your throat!" Instinctively, my hand went to the scar on the side of my throat, almost to check that last night had been real.
"Look lady, we're gonna have to go over all your notes and files on the Joker anyway to see if there's anything in there to help us catch him. If there was something going on with you two we're going to find it, might as well just fess up now."
"Look, I didn't think the Joker was crazy if that's what you mean." It obviously wasn't what he meant, he wasn't exactly subtle, but I was trying to not directly lie. "He's intelligent, ruthless and obsessed. Sound like any other people in Gotham? Whatever my views on his mental state, he was still a murdering criminal."
"That's exactly why he needed to be locked up!" He shouted at me, not the only one tired after a day of investigation, and no sign of the Joker. "We've got every man we can out on the street looking for him, but I know you can help us find him quicker, whether you were intimate with him or not!"
"Look I really do hope you catch him. When you do, lock him up in Blackgate where he belongs."
I could see he was about to make a point but I cut across him.
"Listen; I know my rights pretty well, you've had me here all fucking day so unless you're going to charge me with something you best let me go. I went down to see the Joker outside of schedule hours, because I wanted to question him on something he said over our last session. Yes it was wrong and the Asylum will reprimand me for it but last I checked that's not the police's job."
"Yeah but it is our job to arrest accomplices to criminals." He replied angrily, no doubt feeling himself losing whatever intimidation tactic that usually worked for him.
"You've got the footage and you've got my statement. The Joker managed to get a weapon off one of the nurses, and when I went into the cell he threatened me and forced me to help him escape. I took him to the delivery dock because I knew it would be the most guarded, what with the riots going on everyone else was busy. That didn't work and he got away. If I can help you track down the sick bastard then you know where to contact me but otherwise this discussion is over."
Begrudgingly Bullock let me leave, and to his credit he even got one of the officers to drive me home. Considering he'd had me in the investigation room all day, I was exhausted, and it was the middle of the night, I didn't exactly feel like traipsing from the G.C.P.D back to my shitty apartment across town. It was a nice touch to have someone drive me home, I almost felt bad for how aggressive I'd been to him. Then again I'd had one hell of a day.
The painful throbbing from the cut on my arm and throat was a constant reminder of just how disastrously wrong this night had gone. I leant my head against the cool glass window in the car as I tried unsuccessfully to block the memories out.
It had started off so well. It wasn't exactly hard to start a riot close to the maximum security ward. A simple "mix up" with medication that could in no way be traced back to me caused a few notable patients to become violent and the rest simply joined in. Mob mentality and all that.
Knowing I needed more of a cover story then the Joker simply threatening me, I'd made sure he would be armed. It would seem more believable if he had a knife up to my throat. I'd felt intensely guilty stealing the pocket knife I knew Kayleigh carried around in her purse for emergencies and slipping it into her pocket while we were in the bathroom. There were no cameras in the staff bathrooms so there was no chance of me getting caught but I couldn't help but worry how much trouble Kayleigh might get in for this. I would have tried to steal one of the guards' guns, but they would more likely notice it was missing, and there would be no way to get into the cell easily.
Walking to the cell I tried to look as not guilty as possible for when the police would inevitable go over the footage. There he was sat on the floor looking at the wall with the knife casually on the floor next to him. I was almost shocked at how bold he was with it, not even attempting to hide it. It really made me laugh at just how bad our security was. Someone is getting fired tomorrow for missing the obvious weapon.
He didn't even look up as I walked into the room and I almost felt awkward interrupting whatever thoughts he was lost in.
"Joker, I'm here to talk about our last session." I said timidly but he still didn't respond so I kept on going. "There was something you said to me during that session that's stayed on my mind. I know I'm not supposed to visit you outside of hours but….." I hesitated, not wanting to say anything too obvious that could be used against me, but I needed to get the Joker to play along.
Looking back I should have left at that moment, I should have realised I was way out of my depth. When the Joker turned to me there was none of the playful taunting in his eyes I'd seen in our sessions. When he looked at me there was a murderous intent piercing through those black eyes of his that I froze up.
"Why Harley, you're a little late aren't you?"
"Late?" I had stammered nervously, still frozen in spot.
He rose up from the floor, and even though he was in Arkham orange, he looked so similar to the footage I'd watched of him. I'd never really seen him standing up straight before, he was always being dragged around by orderlies or slumped in chairs. He'd always been so in control, careful. He's still terrifying even when trying not to be, I think that's what made it worse. I was used to other patients using force to intimidate, but with the Joker it was as though he inspired terror simply by existing. His usual intimidating aura was nothing though, compared to him actively trying to terrify.
"You're a little mystery aren't you Harley" He whispered, moving in closer like a shark. I had enough common sense to move slowly away from him but he kept walking so slowly towards me. He was so close I could have reached out and touch those scars of his if I wanted to.
"Still wondering how I got these scars?" The Joker asked, head tilted as he watched me the way a wolf might watch a naive idiotic deer that wandered too close.
This is what you wanted Harley, you wanted to free the psychopath and now you've got to deal with the person he is. He's not some misunderstood intellectual, he's a murderer.
"Joker, how did you get a hold of that weapon?" I'd stammered, my brain still trying to keep up the appearance of innocence, although I really wasn't sure who the act was for anymore.
"Why this little thing? I mean it's no gun, or club" He said with a short laugh, holding up the knife to admire. I couldn't tell if he was oblivious to the sheer fear and panic on my face or if he was just pretending not to notice. "Let's just say it's a nice little ace that got dealt to me from errrrrr….fate."
With a disconcertingly quick movement he had flicked the blade up to my throat, but he seemed to be looking past me. It was as though he didn't notice how I gasped at the shock of the cold metal on my skin, or my terror at the casual threat at my life.
"Now I've been thinking about the right time to leave this errr….. lovely establishment. Now the perfect escape just seems to have just ahhhh thrown itself in my lap" He muttered, with an almost vacant look on his face. It was as though he was talking to himself rather than me, I might as well not be there if it wasn't for the knife to my throat stopping me from leaving.
"Joker, please put the knife down." I pleaded. I thought about trying to struggle against him and put at least some distance between me and the weapon, but the slightest movement could have set him off. It would take only one swift movement for him to slit my throat.
"Harley, stop acting so scareeeeddd. You're not scared of me are you?" The Joker replied nonchalantly, his face the perfect picture of innocence. He even seemed to have a concerned look on his ever grinning face. His body language however told a different story. He was leaning in towards me, forcing my body back against the wall. His arm tensed, causing the knife to cut further into my skin.
"Of course I'm scared, you're cutting my throat with a fucking knife" I whimpered back, hyper aware of the blood that was trickling down my neck. I had sounded so childish and whiny, rather than one of those stereotypical confident strong women you see in every action film that stands up to intimidation.
"You don't need to be scared of me Harley. You should be far more scared of all those people out there. The caring doctors and nurses, will enjoy ruining you once I've errrr made my escape." He mocked, the knife digging in oh so slightly harder into my neck.
"There's no way you can escape. Even if you get out your cell, you'd have to go across the bridge. You'd have to get some sort of van to even stand a chance." I hinted in a panicked voice. Looking back it wasn't just me hinting because I wanted to help, it was more wanting him to let me go.
He stared at me for a second, seeming to contemplate what I was saying. Everything about him was predatory. It was so easy to look past when he was chained up behind a table. Of course he was terrifying, but that was nothing compared to the Joker loose and up close. Those black eyes of his seemed even more unfathomable but that just drew me in more. Even after everything that happened that night I still couldn't get the image of those dark eyes staring down at me out of my head.
You're an idiot Harely, an idiot who shouldn't even be alive right now. I chided myself.
"What apartment block did you say you lived on?"
I nearly jumped out of my skin, forgetting completely I was in the car with the cop. I'd been so busy reliving what happened I hadn't even realised I was basically back at the flat.
"You can drop me off here if you like, it's not too far."
"Naaa, Bullock would kick my ass if he knew I kicked a witness out the car in the middle of the night. Besides, he wants your house under surveillance in case the Joker comes back to finish you off."
"Wait, what?"
"Yeah, you'll have a few G.C.P.D guys posted outside your house for a few days until the Joker's caught. Didn't Bullock tell you?"
"Must have slipped his mind" I replied sarcastically.
I wonder if he's got men posted for my protection, or because he's watching me?
We carried on the rest of the way in silence, leaving my poor tired brain to relive the night's events. The Joker's words seemed to penetrate my skull and were taunting me on repeat.
"Lead the way Harley, after all you're the second ace up the sleeve."
How wrong is it that hearing him call me that made my heart skip a beat, and not from fear. I should have been feeling afraid as I lead the Joker down those dismal empty corridors. I barely noticed the knife being held to my side as he walked behind me, I was busy focusing on the strange feeling of his hand on the back of my neck. It felt coarse and rough against my exposed skin, the grip too tight to be comfortable but the sensation of his touch was electrifying.
"The delivery bay is down at the back of the main building. If we go down behind the building and stay quiet we should be able to get there okay."
"I was told Arkham had the best errrrr security. Seems awwwwwwfully strange that no one's here. You'd almost think you were leading me into a trap, but my Harley knows better than that doesn't she?"
"It's not…it's not a trap" I stammered, my heart pounding in my chest. My Harley!? "There's a riot going on in one of the higher security wards so most of the guards are busy over there. Lots of unstable violent patients. I'm sure you're familiar with the type." I replied, masking my panic with the most reliably thing, sarcasm.
"Nice to see you still have some of that fight in you Harley. You're so much more…interesting when you stop pretending to be normal" Complemented the Joker, or at least I hope it was a complement. Then again he did dig the tip of the blade painfully into my side.
Surprisingly, getting to the delivery bay was far simpler than I'd thought, we didn't come across any guards or nurses. It just meant there were less people the Joker could hurt on his way out. Or at least I thought so at the time.
My hand had shaken so much as I swiped my pass card and put in the codes to get access into the delivery room. It was at the back of the main building, but there was a side door that wasn't guarded. Of course you needed to have staff clearance to get through it. The delivery bay had at least three guards posted there at all times. The majority of stuff that came through was medical supplies, food and general supplies needed to run the hospital. I'd timed the break out for just before ten because that's when we were due to have a shipment of high grade medical supplies, which meant a guaranteed armoured vehicle.
"Listen Joker this is crazy," I whispered as he pushed me through the door "There are at least three guards down there, maybe more."
The Joker just laughed at my concern and warnings. I pulled ahead slightly and turned around the corridor into the main room, the gate was still open so the van must have only just driven in. I'd wanted to just sneak around the side but the Joker had other ideas. He had put his arm around my waist to pull me close into him, the knife going back to my throat. I gasped at the suddenness of it, I could barely breathe. It made the heat rise to my face thinking about it, I seriously hoped the cop wasn't paying too much attention to me in the back of the car, or he'd think I really was crazy.
"Just make sure you look extra scared. Make. It. Convincing." He whispered into my ear, punctuating the last sentence to make it painfully clear before pushing me out from the shadow of the entrance right into the middle of the room.
I'd naively hoped the Joker would just steal the van quickly and quietly, assuming he'd want to get out of Arkham as fast as possible. I should have known he'd want to make a show of it. It wasn't just an escape to him. Now I had time to actually think about why he didn't just leave, the only motive would be fun. For the Joker, escaping wouldn't have been that hard, I didn't doubt he'd had multiple chances to break out, but where was the thrill in an easy exit?
"Put the knife down Joker!" Shouted one voice above the rabble of screams and shouts I couldn't quite make out from the other guards. It had been so hard to focus; looking back it all seemed such a blur of panic. I had a knife at my throat and four guns pointed at my face.
"Shooting me won't stop the blood rushing out her vital arteries now…. will it?" The Joker said casually to no guard in particular, but his nails dug into the side of my hip where he was holding me. I got the message loud and clear.
"Please please don't let him hurt me!" I cried out in my most broken and panicked voice, which really wasn't too hard to do, considering the circumstance. It hadn't been convincing enough for the Joker though.
Whether it was to get a real reaction from me or because he just wanted to hurt me I still can't figure out, but when the guards didn't instantly lower their weapons he took the knife and dragged it along the top of my arm. At the time I was too shocked to realise just how deeply he'd pushed the knife into my arm, the pain had been too much. It wasn't until the nurses got to me that I noticed just how much blood there was, how much damage he had done. Yet he didn't damage any muscle and even after everything that happened that night I still wanted to believe that he had purposefully made sure not to catch anything significant.
"Put the guns down, don't let him hurt me!" I screamed in real pain and panic. Slowly they all lowered their weapons, but I knew they were all waiting for the moment he lowered his guard to take the shot. If I knew it, the Joker certainly did. He started to move towards the car, keeping me covering him at all times.
"Why don't you gentlemen all move over to that wall so I know you won't try and shoot me while my back's turned. Be a shame if my last act in life was to cut pretty Miss Quinn's throat."
They all moved over to the right wall, completely in the Jokers sight as he moved across the room to where the van was.
I felt myself be pushed to the ground out of nowhere and then the sudden blinding pain as my head hit the concrete. At the time, I'd laid stunned on the floor, whimpered to myself. I hadn't realised that there had been another person in the room; the van's driver had been obscured behind the van. He waiting until the Joker was focused on the guards and run out to tackle him, thinking he could take him off guard. I didn't see the struggle because I was still concussed on the floor, it wasn't until his body fell next to mine on the floor, sightless eyes staring at me that I realised what happened.
I didn't have the time to process what had happened at the time, but now I was alone with my thoughts, I couldn't pretend I hadn't been responsible for that man's death. I couldn't block out those blank, lifeless eyes that seem to be accusing me even in death. He wasn't the only face that haunted me though.
The Joker had grabbed my hair and pulled me up off the floor, and I was struggling for real this time. Desperate to put some space between myself and the murderer I had tried to pretend he wasn't. That hadn't been an option though because unfortunately the driver had been carrying a gun. It was hard to struggle when you were actually looking at the barrel of a gun pointed directly at your face.
"The idiot didn't even think to go for his gun!" The Joker mocked, laughing so hard it reverberated across the room, which only made his laughter sound more manic.
"Joker you've got the van now, please just let me go. There will be more guards soon and there's no way you can escape then." I pleaded but he wasn't even looking at me, he was too busy staring at the guards.
"I know your all ittccchhhinngg to go for your guns and pull the trigger but now you're questioning if you can hit me, don't wanna risk hurting this pretty little girl. I can see the doubt in your faces." The Joker said, and started actually preening himself in front of room of armed guards all dying to fill him full of bullets. It had been antagonising watching him mockingly straighten his Arkham suit, and then slowly run his fingers through his greasy unkempt hair, pushing away the loose strands from his face. He must have noticed me staring at him with complete shock.
"I've got to look good for my return back into Gotham. I've got a reputation to keep."
He had turned back to the guards, grin widened with the presence of an audience to perform for.
"Now you, tall muscly and dying to kill me. Walk across the room over here. We can swap one hostage for another to keep things faaaiirr."
He only got half of the way across the room before Joker shot him. It didn't make any sense. This was the one thing I still couldn't work out; there was no rhyme of reason for the Joker to shoot an unarmed man who he could use as a hostage. It happened to fast. One second the gun was pointed at me and then I saw the Joker's hand reach out behind him to the door of the van, then dead. One clean bullet straight to the head.
Of course a fire fight started, but the Joker had the element of surprised and dived straight into the van to take cover, laughing the whole time. He drove off out the open gate, firing parting shots that managed to catch one man on the shoulder and another in his abdomen.
I didn't want to think about how I'd curled up on the floor crying, a broken mess. I didn't want to think about how I'd seen two bodies carried out of the room, two people's lives ended because of me. I didn't want to think about my selfishness and stupidity anymore, but I couldn't stop reliving the night's events in my head.
Guess you're a murderer as well now Harley, just like him. Ironic that you wanted to get the Joker away before he twisted you but look at you now. Lying to the police, breaking out a criminal, aiding in a murder.
"Miss? Oi Miss you alright?"
I looked up confused and realised we were parked outside my apartment. The cop was staring at me, looking concerned.
"Sorry, tired…. this is it thanks. Say thanks to Bullock for me next time you see him." I muttered, not wanting to make direct eye contact because I could feel the tears welling in my eyes. I'd had such a long day of keeping all my emotions in control and hidden. Being so close to home I couldn't keep it in much longer.
I practically ran out the car like I was being chased. I've never been so relieved to be back in my shitty apartment. I emptied my purse onto the counter, desperate to find the pills the nurse had given me to numb the pain, but the first thing I saw was my phone with a text from Peter. I almost didn't want to look at it, but I knew I wouldn't be satisfied until I knew.
Your formal hearing is next Friday. Take the week off work to recover.
So the end of my career and life begins.